


Dovah Unleashed

by LunasWufei



Series: Snippets and Fix-Its [26]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunasWufei/pseuds/LunasWufei
Summary: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything related to Bethesda.I hope someone likes this. As always, liberties are taken, fictional characters here, thanks.
Series: Snippets and Fix-Its [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556170
Comments: 1
Kudos: 82





	Dovah Unleashed

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything related to Bethesda.
> 
> I hope someone likes this. As always, liberties are taken, fictional characters here, thanks.

Harry was flying as damned fast as he could, faster than he had ever pushed himself. There was a reason for it, though, seeing as a damned  _ dragon _ was chasing him, just so he could get a stupid egg, for this stupid bloody tournament. He flew circles around the arena, and then went for a Wronski Feint, aiming for the egg in the middle of the makeshift nest of the dragon. He had seen Viktor Krum do it before, and he was sure he could pull it off. He put himself as close to the broom, his trusty Firebolt, as possible before he started to pull up at the last moment. He reached out and grasped the egg, before turning sharply from the wall and back into the air. 

  
  


Once he knew he wouldn’t personally crash, he turned his head just in time to see and hear the dragon crash into the rune-enforced stadium walls. The crowd was silent so they all heard the dragon slam into it, and the sickening, fatal ~snap~ of it’s neck. Harry gasped and then flew down, this was not good. He… he was responsible for the death of a Dragon. Oh man, he’d either be in Azkaban, or working off the debt for years. Just as he landed everyone, himself included gasped as the deceased dragon started to glow and rapidly decay. It’s flesh coming off like flecks of ash, and then the power flew towards, and into Harry. He inhaled deeply as he felt it rush into him, he felt stronger, faster, all of his senses heightened as this happened. He stumbled back until he fell on his arse, and there was nothing left but bones. 

  
  


The crowd was silent, and then they cheered at the spectacle, they really were fickle people. Harry got up, in a daze, and wobbled to the medic tent, blinking softly and sitting on a bed when Poppy pushed him there. He was blinking still, and then he took off his glasses, and was marveling at his perfect eyesight. Poppy was frowning as she ran diagnostic spells on him, he seemed to be in the pinnacle of health. His bone structure was denser, his skin partially spell resistant, and was… was Harry taller? 

  
  


“Mr. Potter!” Came the almost panicking tone of The Minister For Magic, Cornelius Fudge. “What in Merlin’s name was that?!” He nearly bellowed, mostly because he was keeping his distance from the boy who seemingly just absorbed a Dragon!

  
  


“I… I don’t know.” Harry said, his voice just a touch deeper, his eyes slightly glowing, before they faded. “Am I in trouble?” He asked, and the Minister was about to speak when Dumbledore came in. 

  
  


“No, not at all my boy.” Dumbledore said, coming up to the scared young man, putting a hand on his shoulder, feeling the raw magic bubbling under the surface of the boy’s skin. “Though your actions unfortunately caused the demise of the dragon, you were indeed fighting for your life. It was all within the tournament parameters as well, so you will suffer no consequences.” The older male said, and Harry shuddered, visibly relaxing. 

  
  


“Yes… yes of course. Albus is right.” Fudge said, clearing his throat. “Ah… congratulations on being the fastest to get the egg, my boy. Yes indeed. I, ah…. Have to go.” He cleared his throat and then bustled out, Harry nodding before he laid down on the bed, closing his eyes, and then passing out. In his last moments of consciousness the ground and air trembled, and everyone within a five kilometer radius heard a clap of thunder, followed by bellowed words:

  
  


“ **_DOVAHKIIN!_ ** ”

  
  


~DU~

Harry woke in the hospital wing, feeling like… well surprisingly he felt amazing. He stretched and groaned, oh Merlin that felt fantastic. He felt and heard his joints crack, and he shuddered before getting off of the bed and shuddering again in physical delight. Then he blinked. He had to use the loo. After his near emergency visit to the loo, he let himself be put under the tender mercies of Poppy. She, through some grumbling, let him go off to breakfast, and he couldn’t remember the last time he was so hungry. 

  
  


He entered the great hall and all commotion stopped, before the Weasley twins got up and came to each side, turning to the crowd. 

  
  


“Make way for the dragon slayer!”

“Ender of Beasts!”

“Drinker of muscles and guts.” They said together, before they shuddered. “Too much.” They said, before they escorted him to the table, Harry chuckling softly at their antics. 

  
  


“Yes, draw more attention to me guys, thanks. I need that today.” Harry said, and they grinned unrepentantly at him, before they let him start to eat. Harry had no doubt that he would need to speak with the headmaster, but he was famished, and there was so much breakfast to be had. He ate like a beast himself, though still had the common decency to not be a complete slob, though it was difficult in his ravening hunger. 

  
  


The whole great hall spoke in whispers, all about Harry in some manner. Cheating, becoming a dark lord, being ridiculously sexy. Harry flushed softly at that, especially since it was coming from the Slytherin table, from some of the upper years. He heard it from across the hall, and wondered just what the hell had happened the day before. He was holding conversation with his fellow Gryffindors when everyone stopped at a bellowed word from beyond the doors of the great hall. 

  
  


“ **BEX!** ” 

  
  


The doors opened, slowly and eerily, and then walked in four men. They were in grey, hooded cloaks, and walked slowly down the aisles of the tables. Dumbledore rose and frowned, he felt like he should know these gentlemen, but it was escaping him right now. 

  
  


“Introduce yourselves, gentleman, you are strangers here.” Dumbledore said, and the one in the front looked up, speaking. His tone soft, yet it carried to every ear in the great hall. 

  
  


“I am Master Arngeir, of the greybeards. The Dovahkiin has been awakened, we are here to train them.” Arngeir said, and Dumbledore was surprised, and a then his eyes glanced at Harry, before he saw the four men turn to do the same. “Dovahkiin, we greet you, as masters of Voice.” He said, and Harry blinked, before shuddering. 

  
  


“What is going on?” Harry said, after a deep breath. He got up, walking to the older male, who seemed to be at least as old as Dumbledore, and just as powerful. 

  
  


“A dragon was slain yesterday, and you absorbed something, did you not?” Arngeir said, and at Harry’s hesitant nod he went on. “You took it’s soul, it’s very essence, for your own. It’s power pulses within you, ready to be unleashed.” He said, and Harry gaped at him. “We are here to help you learn, to harness the power of the Thu’um, or Shout in the common tongue.” He finished, and by this time Dumbledore had come over. 

  
  


“I am afraid, Mr. Arngeir, that Mr. Potter cannot leave the castle. He is involved in a tournament, he is bound by magic.” Dumbledore said, and he flinched softly when one next to Arngeir spoke, his tone sharp, his voice thunderous. 

“ _Nahlot goraan gein. Daar ni hi._ ” The cloaked man said, and Dumbledore actually stumbled back a small bit from the force of the words, as if they were used with an amplified sonorous. 

  
  


“Master Borri, I will take care of it, though I thank you for your words.” Arngeir said, and Borri nodded before turning to look back at Harry. “It is not up to you, young one, it is up to the Dovahkiin.” Arngeir said before turning back to Harry. 

  
  


“Would I have to talk like that?” Harry asked, gesturing to Borri, who smiled and shook his head, Arngeir speaking again. 

  
  


“No, Dovahkiin, you would learn the way of the voice, and be able to speak as you do now.” Arngeir said. “We would teach you, nurture your power, so that you may use it as you wish to. For evil, for good, it is all in your own will.” The old man said, and Harry frowned gently, scratching the back of his head. 

“Do I… have to decide now?” Harry asked, and all four masters shook their heads. 

“Not at all, young Dovahkiin. We will stay til you decide you wish to train with us.” Arngeir said, and Dumbledore chose that time to speak again. 

“I am afraid that I cannot allow that, Mr. Arngeir.” Dumbledore said, and the man actually laughed at him. 

“Do you think, sir, that you would be able to stop a master of the voice?” Arngeir said, and then felt magic go over him, to prevent him from speaking. 

“I believe I can, Mr. Arngeir. Now as I was say-” Dumbledore then was pushed back as a deep, bellowing one syllable word came from the thought silenced man. 

“ **Fus** .” Arngeir had said, the silencing spell shattering from his form. “Your spells, to silence, to hinder my voice, are useless. We are masters of the Voice, and thus it can never be taken from us.” He said, before he turned to Harry. “We can teach you this, should you desire, and much more. We shall be upon the magnificent grounds of this castle.” He said, before gesturing out, the four hooded men leaving just as they had arrived, with a single word closing the door as well. 

  
  


“ **Gaar!** ” 

And the door slammed shut, making everyone jump in their seats, Harry having retaken his, chin in his grasp as he thought. This was an interesting opportunity to say the least. 

  
  


~DU~

Harry found himself walking the next morning to the little camp on the grounds, it was barely sunrise, but he had made his decision the night before. He had missed the celebration of his victory two nights before, but that was alright. He raised his hand to knock on the tent flap, as absurd as that sounded in his head, and was surprised when it opened. 

  
  


“Come in, Dovahkiin, we have been expecting you.” Arngeir said, and Harry nodded and entered. As he had been inside of one this summer, he was not surprised to see the inside of a wizard tent. The flap closed and he looked around slowly, it was like the inside of a temple, not a tent. 

  
  


“What does Dovahkiin mean, I have been trying to figure it out all night.” Harry said, still marveling at the expanse of the inside of the tent. 

  
  


“In the common tongue it means ‘Dragonborn’. At some point in your lineage, there was dragon blood mixed in. One of your ancestors either lay with a Dragon, or was given the blood willingly or not.” The older male explained, and Harry nodded softly. “You are confused by your surroundings, do not be.” Arngeir said. “The entrance was not to a domicile, but to our true home. Welcome, Dovahkiin, to Skyrim.” He said, after leading Harry to a window, showing him that they were on top of a mountain, overlooking a vast world that was covered in ice and snow. 

  
  


“Sweet Merlin…” Harry muttered to himself, looking around in awe once more. “Magic is amazing…” He said, before turning with a smile to Arngeir. “When do I start learning?” He asked, as only a young, eager student could. Arngeir smiled and gestured back towards the halls, walking with the young man, finally a youth they could teach after all these years. 

  
~DU~

The tent outside on the grounds stood firm, no magic able to breach it, save for those of owls entering and leaving it. Harry did not come out for several weeks, and when he did it was under the cover of darkness, and just to bring his godfathers in from the undeserving world of earth. Harry missed the Yule ball, not that he really cared, and quite a few whispers and rumors of where he was and what he was doing. 

  
  


He emerged, finally, on the day of the second task. The officials had been worried he wouldn’t show up, but he had felt the pull of magic. He stepped out from the tent, wearing rather elegant robes, with Master Borri behind him. He bowed and made some kind of greeting, and the man sent to fetch Harry (Hagrid), heard from the young man an odd phrase. 

  
  


“Sky above, Voice within, Master Borri.” Harry said, his voice slightly deeper still, and he looked happy, and healthy. The older male smiled and nodded, bowing once more and returning to the tent. 

  
  


“You’re looking good, Harry!” Hagrid said, patting the young man’s shoulder, not noticing the lack of discomfort on the stronger child. 

  
  


“Thank you, Hagrid, it is good to see you again.” Harry said, giving the half giant a hug, and getting one in return. “Here to bring me to the second task?” He asked, and Hagrid nodded, before they started walking. 

  
  


They got to the site of the second task and Harry sighed, shaking his head. They were going to sit in front of a lake for an hour, and stare at nothing. Yes… so entertaining. Harry had grown in the months he had been gone, and though he was still the same age as his home world was earth, he had been gone for at least double the time anyone had thought. 

  
  


“Our final champion arrives! Marvelous!” Ludo Bagman said, coming and putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, only to remove it when he got a snarl that promised pain from the boy. “Ah-ha… yes. So, you have an hour to retrieve your hostage. Somewhere in the lake they rest.” He said, with a poor type of eeriness. Harry just blinked and turned to the lake, taking off his robes to reveal that he was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts underneath. His form was covered in lean muscle, stretching and sighing lightly at the briskness of the cold. 

  
  


“And it… seems. Mr. Potter is ready. On your mark!” Ludo started, and then with a cannon blast the four champions were off. Harry looked over the water, stepping to the edge of the dock and hummed. 

  
  


“ _Siiv Laas Fahdon_.” Harry said, his eyes glowing to switch his sight. He saw where he needed to go, and then he backed up a dozen or so feet before he started running. As he was about to get to the water, he bellowed a new set of words, though. “ **Wuld, Nah Kest!** ” He said, and with those words he started running on the surface of the water. Unlike other Dovahkiin before him, Harry had a special extra bit about him. His magic, strong and built already, healed and recharged him rapidly. He could use the words of the Dovah faster than anyone save the Greybeards themselves. 

  
  


He used the Whirlwind sprint several times, and in between the friend finder, before he shouted again. “ _Fus Su Lok!_ ” He said, and was then leaping high into the air, only to come back down in a spectacular dive, slipping into the water and starting to swim with little effort. 

  
  


Another thing the greybeards had discovered with Harry, was that he could use words from different phrases of Power with each other, making his own phrases. Thus several new word chains were created, something the Greybeards marveled at, and enjoyed helping Harry learn. A bubblehead charm, taught to him by Sirius and Remus, had him able to still use his shouts at lower volume, for short bursts of speed, under the water. He was making excellent time. 

  
  


In no time at all, really, Harry was back up at the surface, but with not just his hostage. In one arm he had Ron, and in the other he had a young girl, she couldn’t be more than ten honestly, who was shivering almost violently. He helped her to the dock, the robes Ron was wearing having been spelled to stay warm, though for some reason the same spells had worn off of the young witch. Harry kneeled and then spoke again, this time his tone was not thunderous, or even loud. It was warm, gentle even. 

  
  


“ _Faad Qeth Pruzah_.” Harry said, a soft orange mist exiting his lips, and her shuddering almost instantly stopped, though she was still cold. Another utterance of the phrase, and she was just wet, but that was quickly changed when Poppy came to her and spoke the drying charm, as well as supplying a towel for her, Harry and Ron. Harry dried himself, before he put his robes on. Just as he finished doing so, he was almost barreled over by the young girl, who was speaking a mile a minute in French. He blinked and patted her head softly, smiling slightly awkwardly at her before she was wrenched away by an older almost… clone of herself. The older witch, who he now remembered as Fleur, the French champion, was responding back to her. 

  
  


“Harry, my boy.” Came the soft tones of the headmaster, making Harry turn as he had been about to head back to Skyrim. “It’s good to see you in good health, Poppy tells me you have never been stronger.” He said, smile on his face, making Harry smile softly as well. 

  
  


“Yes, Sir, I am. The Greybeards have been teaching me so much, and I am seeing life in a new light.” Harry said, and Dumbledore nodded. “If there is nothing else?” He asked, and Dumbledore was about to speak again when Ludo showed up. 

  
  


“Ah, there you are Mr. Potter!” Ludo said, smiling brightly. “You missed the ball, bad form good sir, bad form.” He said, not putting his hand on the young man’s shoulder again. 

  
  


“I was busy, Mr. Bagman. The ball was not one of the contract necessities.” Harry said, and Ludo frowned. He was about to speak again, when Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and then a flash of a picture being taken. 

  
  


“Ah, young Harry. How marvelous for you to show up again!” Came the oily tones of Rita Skeeter, her eyelashes batting softly, and her grin was fake as her personality. “Perhaps an interview of your heroic deed?” She said, and then flinched at his glare, and snarl. 

  
  


“Remove your hand, or you will wish for oblivion to claim you, wench.” Harry said, and she retracted her hand, her grin still in place. “It is only the will of my teachers that I do not bring down the full might of the Dovah upon you, after the hurtful words you spoke of about my friends.” He said, his words dripping with almost literal venom. She smiled sweetly, overly so, and nodded. 

  
  


“Oh, and Ms. Skeeter?” Harry said, and she turned with a gleam in her eye. “Attack me in the papers, and I will bring the force of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, **and** Black on you. That’s a promise.” He said, smiling at her paling features, before he nodded to the headmaster, and started walking away. He had been reminded, rather quickly, why he was losing faith in this world. 

  
  


~DU~

More time spent in Skyrim for Harry, meant more for him to learn. Months of different types of magic, learning different skills, even new languages. It was the magic of Skyrim that helped as well, along with it being so much longer there than it had been on earth. When asked about that, the Greybeards simply smiled and went about their business. He was not indignant about it, at all, he had a feeling they would tell him someday, at least. The best part about all of this, aside from how free and happy he was, were the conversations he had with the leader of the Greybeards: Paarthurnax. 

  
  


He had been told to go to the Throat of the World, where their leader lived, and was prepared to fight the large dragon… and then it spoke to him. He had several millennia of wisdom, and he was not going to waste an opportunity to impart it upon such a fresh, young mind. He also taught Harry more words, words lost to even the Greybeards in their more fragile lives. Harry absorbed all that he could, leaning every bit his mind could take, and training to keep it all fresh in his head as well. It was only when he felt the contractual pull that he left again, but he knew he’d be back.

  
  


He did not come from the tent alone this time, he had four others with him. They all walked to where the Task would be held, and Dumbledore was first to intercept them. 

  
  


“Ah, Harry my boy!” Dumbledore said, smiling brightly, eyes twinkling. “Still growing, still learning I see.” He said, and Harry nodded. “Remus, is that you?” Dumbledore asked, and the man nodded with a smile. 

  
  


“Yes, it’s good to see you again, Albus. Allow me to introduce my mate, her name is Aela.” Remus said, gesturing to the woman beside him, war paint on her face, along with a glower. 

  
  


“Aela _the Huntress_ , Remus, get it right.” Aela said with a snarl, and Remus nodded, giving her a kiss on the cheek, causing her to glower at him and sock him in the arm. The next man spoke, and Dumbledore immediately knew he was, the tone in his voice, and the mischievous glint in his eyes. 

  
  


“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dumbledore.” The man said. “I am Canis, and this is my wife Vex.” He said, but Dumbledore knew better, and he was happy for it as well. Sirius Black deserved a new life, and if he could find happiness there, than so be it. 

  
  


The next hour or so was spent catching up in person, there was only so much you could do with letters and the like. Harry was welcome by his friends, though they were a bit grumpy he had left them alone in the school, yet they could understand. Hermione, especially, was just a tad bit extra grumpy, mostly from all the new learning he was partaking in. She understood, though, that she was not Dovahkiin, her learning would take ages instead of the months for Harry. 

  
  


The Weasley’s were all happy to see Harry, and they expressed it with familial affection. Molly was surprised at how filled out and grown Harry was, but she was the opposite of upset about it, he deserved everything he had been getting. The rest of the family time was amazing, and filled with love from his chosen family, and he was happy to see them all again. He’d have to make sure to visit more often, just to see them smiling, and to stay in touch. 

  
  


“And now, the third and Final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament!” Ludo said, the crowd cheering, though once again Harry was shaking his head at the lack of actual entertainment the audience would be getting. Staring at a hedge for an hour? How completely boring. Oh well, he’d do what he could to get out of this damned thing, and then be rid of the stupid contract. The cannon sounding had the champions off, into the maze towards the Tri-Wizard cup. 

  
  


The maze was full of perils, and Harry was kind of glad he was not being watched. Especially when he removed his twin elven blades from his side satchels, both enchanted to temporarily paralyze. The Sphinx was quickly taken care of in that manner, with a soft slice of the blade, but the acromantula got every sharp inch of the blades. Those things were a menace, and no one could tell Harry differently. The devil’s snare got the same treatment, and when Harry spotted the cup he put his blades back, before using his Whirlwind Sprint to get to it. He grasped it firmly, and then felt the not so pleasant naval tug of a portkey. 

  
~DU~

  
  


Harry had been thrown forcefully against a large, marble headstone as soon as he got to his feet. Because of his head knocking into it, he was knocked out cold almost instantly, but he roused quickly after. Not quick enough, however, as he found himself with a light sting to his arm, and bound to a different headstone. 

  
  


“Ah, our esteemed guest wakes.” Came the sibilant tones of one Lord Voldemort, reborn and stronger than ever. Harry growled and looked up at the poor excuse for a man, glancing to his arm to see he had healed from the blood that had been taken from him. 

  
  


“Wormtail, give him his wand.” Voldemort said, dropping Harry from the headstone. 

  
  


“No, i’m fine without it, Tom.” Harry said, his hands suddenly cackling with furious electricity, eager to be thrown. Voldemort was surprised for a moment, but then put up a shield as the lightning was let loose towards him. It did not break the shield, but it made it bend as it was almost raw magic. Harry was then moving, switching between elements, firing as fast as he could towards the Dark lord. 

  
Voldemort was not one of the most feared dark lords in history for nothing, though, and he was soon on the offensive himself. He was not using spells too dark yet, testing his opponent, saving the best for last of course. He noticed that any spells that did connect with Harry seemed to either roll off of him, or barely made him stagger in his movement. The death eaters watched the spectacle, marveling at just how fast the boy-who-lived was. It went on for quite some time before Voldemort decided he was through playing games.    
  
  
“ _ Crucio! _ ” Voldemort bellowed, and as it was one of the darker spells in his arsenal, Harry could only dodge, but he was running out of steam, so it hit him squarely, causing him to drop in pain. He did not scream, though, no. He would not give Voldemort the satisfaction! He twitched and snarled through clenched teeth, and then the spell was released. “ _ Silencio! _ ” Voldemort said, and Harry glared at him, but the older male smirked. “What’s the matter, Potter? No words, nothing to say?” He laughed and then Harry, shakily, raised three fingers. “What’s that, Boy?” Voldemort said, before Harry took in a deep, silent breath.    
  
  
**_“FUS RO DAH!”_ ** Harry bellowed, the silencing spell shattering as he had seen it done so many months before. Voldemort, completely caught off guard, was not prepared for his spell to be shattered like tissue paper. He was flung several dozen feet, Harry getting up with a snarl and turning to the surprised death eaters. He did not let them recover, his eyes ablaze with fury. “ **Yol Toor Shul!”** He shouted, spouting dragon fire from his mouth, scattering the death eaters and making them flee, at least those that were not on fire trying to put it out. He snarled and turned, letting loose with another torrent of fire when he saw Tom getting up. 

  
  


Once again, the dark lord was caught unawares, and because of this he was bathed in dragon fire, his scream of agony almost as piercing as a banshee. He was not dead though, no, not yet. Harry changed that, though, quickly. He drew his blades and with a quick sprint drove the blades into the chest of the prone, smoking dark lord. 

  
  


“You’re done, Tom. You’ll never hurt anyone again.” Harry snarled, and before Tom could retort, he inhaled again. “ _Sil Luv Al_.” He said, and he watched as Tom’s eyes widened, his soul being torn not just from his body, but from the mortal plane. He would be taken to the next existence, but his soul was black and paradise would not be his reward. Harry huffed and panted, looking around at the now partially empty graveyard. He growled and after sheathing his weapons, went to pick up the sniveling traitor. 

  
  


“Long time no see, eh, Peter?” Harry said, and Peter whimpered, before they were both taken away by the portkey that had been summoned to Harry’s hand. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> That’s where it stops, I can’t take it much more from there. I tried an epilogue, but it seemed too forced. Either way, I hope someone can enjoy what my mind has wrought. Read, review and enjoy. 


End file.
